


A Love Lost to the Scream of Time

by SighingWinter



Category: Fever Series - Karen Marie Moning
Genre: Dark, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Magic, Romance, Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 02:38:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/645625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SighingWinter/pseuds/SighingWinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was dying, slowly changeing into something he had no desire to be. Something he hated and there was not one soul who could save him. She had been through hell and had become a survivior the hard way.She had never needed saving, at least not before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Love Lost to the Scream of Time

**Author's Note:**

> So ICED kinda tossed this idea out the window, but here it is anyway. Written for TeniPuriluv18. I dont own the series or the characters save for my OFC.

He was dying. In a slow and terrible agony he died; only there was no pain. He was being tortured day in and day out, through no device of his own. Every night the changes became more and more obvious, stronger, and infinitely more powerful. And no matter what he and his family tried there was nothing any of them could do to stop it. Ever so slowly his humanity faded replaced by the one being he hated most in the world.

The darkened man who gazed at the mirror now was no longer the image of a Scot with dark hair, bright eyes, and tanned skin. There was not a trace of the scars left by adolescent wanderings and childhood falls, nor any evidence of an unshaven face or burly youth. What faced him was everything he had never been at any point in his life. Dark was the best way his multi-tasking mind could formulate his looks. Dark. Perfect. Sexy as hell. Everything about his body bespoke of pleasure and otherworldliness.

Christian MacKeltar was changing.

Christian MacKeltar was becoming a prince of the fae.

And he was dying.

Althea Mai Kiriyama.

She had always been an odd ball, always. Mostly it was because of her appearance, her blonde hair that faded to red made her look like a constant candle flame and no matter what she tried, dying, cutting, shaving- in the end her hair always remained the same length and color. In elementary school no one had really cared, but once puberty hit and the natural meanness of her peers emerged Althea had always been an outcast. That same year her family was murdered and she and her only surviving family went into protected hiding.

They never wanted for anything, but her brother and sister were too young to understand why mommy and daddy were never coming back for them; in those days she had never had the heart to explain. Then bad went from worse, slowly spiraling into hell. Castilla, her one year old sister was diagnosed with a disease that had no cure and led to her death on her second birthday. Maddox, nine years her junior had done everything in his limited power to support his big sister and constantly held her hand throughout the small funeral and the following week.

She couldn't remember when exactly the murderer of her family had been caught or when she and her brother were adopted by distant family in England. Memories of that first few months in a new land and people were vague, filled mostly faded images, nightmares, and emotions far too dark for words. It was Maddox's 5th birthday that blasted everything into perspective. His glowing face, dark curls, and bright eyes filled the thirteen year old's heart like nothing else could and she decided then and there to forget the past.

It was on her twenty first birthday that the world went to hell. She and her friends had been touring Dublin, and had been sitting at the bar admiring Althea's new wrist tattoos that carried the names of her brother and sister. She remembered the world shuddering and shaking violently and somewhere her young mind thought it was an earthquake. The world crashed around her, filled with screams and the crashing of glass and wood. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the shaking stopped. People stumbled outside and the next thing she heard were sound that sent her flying back to memory lane. The smell of blood soon followed the haunting cries of the dead and dying, accompanied by ripping as flesh and muscle were shredded and eaten for sheer pleasure.

Even now as she waits in the darkness, dark eyes carefully looking around the semi-populated streets, her stomach heaves, trying to empty her stomach as she had done that every night. With a quick shake of her head Althea moved from the shadows, a graceful panther-like movement, and joined the small amount of human life on the streets.

Her world had died that night.

Thrusted from her naïve youthful world, as she had been at a young age, Althea did one of the things she was best at- she survived.

She was a survivor, carefully keeping herself away from others knowing that their lives were at the mercy of their fae lovers.

That walk changed everything for that was when she met the world's most unique figure and one of the most dangerous.

She was in a hurry as she walked down the main road to the abandoned Trinity College and its extensive library. Nobody went there anymore- who would want to steal ancient books? Turning abruptly at one corner she walked beside the campus wall until she came across a very familiar hole and with a quick glance around her she wiggled through, mentally giving herself a pat on the back for her ridiculously skinniness. She did not see the shadows that moved as her perfect ass disappeared through the hole, nor did she feel the intensity of the eyes that followed.

The campus had been under lock and key ever since the fae had shown up two years previously and thus the whole ground looked almost like ruins. Of course red brick could do little against any fae but that matter not because the fae seemed completely uninterested in the college, or so she thought. Her feet found and treaded the familiar pathway around Trinity leaving her mind to wander as her dark eyes wandered over toppled benches, moss hung trees and broken boughs. Long forgotten books, wrinkled by rain lay hidden in the grass, already half buried under a layer of blackened leaves. Absently she thought of all the people who much have frolicked around the area, who must have eaten and laughed, cried, and joked. Now only their ghosts lingered, nothing more than whispers of days long lost to the screams of time.

After clambering through a broken window the black eyed woman easily found the library and made her way to the back. It was strange to her that the library on the second floor had yet to change. It looked just as it had before the coming of the fae. And even though the garden that the large back windows looked out at, was overgrow and messy the library seemed just as much of a sanctuary as it had before hell had taken away almost everything that she held dear. It was ironic, she mused as she ran a finger down a row of old spines, that she always lost something important just as she was about gain something great. When the fae had so rudely interrupted her world she had been three weeks from graduating with her bachelors and was heading into a one year master's program.

The plan fell through but it didn't change one thing- Althea's genius. Through her smarts she had managed to survive the darkest of times and come out alright with a working electricity generator, running water, and a small greenhouse that supplied enough food for her to not have to worry about dinner.

"Ah!." Her low musical voice interrupted the pondering silence of the library and she found the book she had been looking for. Taking it out she made her way over to a nearby sofa and began to read the Latin text, finding comfort in translating the language of old and re-read the lost story of a love so strong that it transcended time itself.

"Quisnam praesumo pervasor meus domus?" A chiming voice, full of sensual promises demanded.

Althea jumped, her dark eyes landed on the speaker and immediately widened. Immediately her mind shuttered and slowed as baser instincts began to make themselves known. He was tall, broad and perfect. Pheromones oozed from his body in waves, sending heat along her body that made her nipples harden and her womanhood wet. He was lean and muscular and every bit of the dark night her teenage fantasies had desired in a man.

He was clad in loose black pants that were made of rich cloth and bagged at bot where they were tucked into equally well made boots. He wore nothing to clothe his chest or arms, allowing anyone to see the clearly defined six pack abs and muscled tones that ran along his strong arms that were currently crossed over his chest. Black hair hung around a chiseled jaw and bright blue eyes looked down at her small figure, clearly irked at her… invasion of his home?

The fighter inside her flared and she stood up from the comfortable couch to put hands on hips and declare, "This is a college not a home"

Full lips twitched upwards in a sexy smirk that sent her body another wave of indirect pleasure as he replied in a voice that promised sensual adventures "Och, lass. Tis mine."

"No, it's no-"Suddenly his eyes darkened and he stiffened, blue eyes looking at her now closely.

What is your name? The sound of multiple voices chiming in her head put her into a daze and suddenly he was there, right in front of her, looking down at her with such lust that she could do nothing but remember to breath.

"Althea Mai Kiriyama."

"Ah…" A large hand touched her cheek and trailed downwards slowly, at that touch she was Althea no longer, just his.

Her reaction to his presence had at first amused him but now as he gently trace her face and neck, her soft breaths only furthered the throbbing of his already hardened cock.

"Dear one… how I have waited…" That was the fae voice in him, speaking to the woman. It knew her and that knowledge flowed through his own mind; yes, he knew every curve, every sensitive spot on her body, faint memories of her cries as she came and the sound of her laughter.

She was in some sort of toga-like off white dress, her wild mane of blonde hair intertwined with flowers that had taken him mere moments to undo once he had managed to catch him in his arms. Her body pressed against his, so weak and frail- so human.

Christian MacKeltar shook away ancient memories and looked at the woman again.

"Not even death will separate us this time. You shall be mine- for as long as I survive, so shall you."


End file.
